The Spider's Sting
by DoktorSeven
Summary: This story was inspired by me stupidly getting killed by a spider in Ultima Online. To the mysterious healer that tried to save me right before I died: thanks anyway .


The Spider's Sting  
  
An Ultima Online story  
  
Growl, attack!   
I pointed at the giant spider that had crawled out from under the bramble and brush onto the path that wound itself away from Vesper. The wolf I had recently found outside of town and trained to follow me blindly followed my order to attack, slashing and biting at the large, dark-colored animal, protecting his new-found master. However, Growl's attacks did nothing to distract the spider from its target: me.   
The spider lashed out and bit me in the leg, leaving small streams of blood mixed with an oozing, clear liquid running down my leg and falling to the earth. Suddenly, I felt the inner sting of the poison making its way through my veins. The world spun as I stumbled away from the giant spider, which was still attacking me as I ran back down the path, stumbling from the effects of the poison. Finally I could not walk anymore. As a caravan of uncaring travelers passed by, speaking of their own insignificant problems, another soul came out from the wood on the north side of the path.   
The traveler must have been a spellcaster, since he told me to stay still while he healed me. I would have healed myself, being an apprentice spellcaster myself, but I was out of the necessary reagents at the time, curse my luck. But it was too late; the poison had found its way to my mind and my heart, infecting my ability to reason, blocking my ability to sense, and stopping the vital beating of my heart. An inky blackness poured over me, filling all my senses, covering my body, blinding my soul. The last thing I could sense was the howling of Growl, but I am not sure if he was bemoaning my loss or simply dealing with the sting of the spider himself.  
A brilliant light pushed back the blackness from my senses, awakening me to reality once again. Had I survived? Had the spellcaster saved me? I slowly opened my eyes, but instead of opening them to see the path and the spellcaster, I saw an image of the Avatar Himself, standing before me. The Avatar! Only in legends and stories had I heard of the legendary adventurer from another world who had brought Britannia to a new age of Enlightenment by retrieving the Codex of Ultimate Wisdom from the Abyss! But is this figure that stands before me now the real Avatar, or is my diseased mind playing tricks on me in my final moments of life?  
Avatar! Please help me, Avatar! I cried out. The Avatar did not move, but simply looked down on me with compassion and smiled. I felt shame at that moment: shame that I had failed somehow, failed in my mission to go out into the world on my own.  
I had started my life in the outskirts of Paws, and was quickly apprenticed to a farmer who taught me better than most how to handle and treat animals to serve you. That is how I learned to befriend animals so easily: even without much practice, I was able to train animals like bears and wolves to respond to my command. Yet the long days on the farm wore on me, and I was found many an afternoon fishing at the river, a large pile of fish by my side. The farmer would always find me there and admonish me for abandoning my duties, but would always enjoy the feast of fish that evening that I made possible.   
I finally tired of the farm life and set off on my own, wandering from town to town trying to find a place to call home. When I arrived at Vesper, a town surrounded by water and fish and a guild for those who practiced the humble art of fishing, I knew I had found home. But since I was not able to adequately protect myself, I knew I had to find another pursuit. I was never an adequate swordsman, so that left me with the art of magic. I studied informally under a crazed old mage that lived just outside of town so that I could learn the basics, and then began to learn magic on my own. But I was still not strong, and knew that I had much to learn before I could adequately protect myself.  
It was with that revelation that made me pack my fishing pole that day and venture out to the countryside to find a companion. I attempted to get a particularly large black bear to help protect me, and while at first she did follow me, she eventually decided that she was better off without me. Wandering farther out, I found a medium-sized, fairly healthy wolf that I made gain my trust. Even though I knew he trusted me and I trusted him, all he could do was growl at pretty much everything he saw: butterflies, leaves, blades of grass, everything; so naturally the name Growl fit him perfectly.  
Growl and I headed up along the path north of Vesper, hoping to find some easy kills so that I could practice magic. After killing a few rabbits and pigs, I decided to move up the path a bit and see if there was anything a bit more challenging to fight. Unfortunately for Growl and me, we found something far too challenging.  
I thought of Growl as the Avatar smiled down on me, wondering if Growl had perished by the spider's deadly poison, and had gone to his Avatar...do wolves have an Avatar? It was an insane thought, but I could not help but wonder where wolves go when they die. I wasn't even sure where I was.  
Suddenly, the Avatar's expression changed from compassion to a look of genuine sadness. I saw his face turn from the bright, warm smile to a somber, sad, horrible visage.  
Then I saw the Avatar cry.   
Tears rolled down his cheeks, falling down to the infinite void that was beneath us. The infinite darkness swallowed his tears. I looked back up at the Avatar, and noticed that he was moving away from me, slowly accelerating into the distance, into the black void behind him.   
But I then realized that he was not moving away from me; I was moving away from him. As the void rushed away from me, it was being replaced with something familiar.  
I was back on the path.  
The giant spider was crawling up the path, heading toward the caravan of adventurers that had passed me earlier. The spellcaster was heading back toward Vesper, his head hanging low. Growl lay on the ground, his paws and head twitching, but otherwise motionless. Blood and venom ran from the bite in his abdomen. I then looked down on the ground below.  
There, on the ground, lay a robed adventurer, soiled with blood and venom on his gray robe. His pack laid spilled open on the ground. A fishing pole and magic reagents spilled outwards from the opening.  
"My fishing pole and reagents," I suddenly thought. At that moment, I realized what had happened.  
I am dead.  
This is what adventurers spoke of when they spoke of walking dead. I was not alive, yet I walk among the living as an apparition. I was nothing more than a passing wind or a sudden chill to people that I would pass by (and sometimes, pass through) as I made my way back to Vesper, in the hopes that someone, anyone, could restore my life.  
The stories of the Avatar spoke of times when he was on the Avatar's Quest, failing to survive an encounter, yet was returned to life by Lord British. Maybe the Avatar's vision was a sign: that I should not give up, that I should seek out a way to return to the living.  
I returned to Vesper and tried desperately to think of where I should go to be helped. I hoped that I would not have to seek out another town, or even worse, all the way to Castle Britain to find His Excellency Lord British Himself! Would He alone have the power to heal…   
Heal! That one word broke my train of thought. Hoping against hope, and trying to remember the path through the near-maze of bridges and islands that make up Vesper that would lead me to my goal, I made my way to the Herb of Health, the local healer's shop.  
I made my way along the edge of the small island that I thought was close, when I heard a beautiful voice say, "Stop, seeker." Looking in the direction of the voice, I saw a young woman looking directly at me and smiling compassionately...just as the Avatar did in my vision. I remember her being very beautiful, but somehow, someway, I cannot remember exactly how she looked.  
"Would you like me to attempt to restore you?" she asked. I stood motionless for a moment, part amazed that a living person could see my spirit, and part concerned because of the use of the word "attempt" in her question. I wondered what would become of me if I could not be restored to life.   
"How do you... how can you see me?" I finally managed to ask.   
She considered me a moment, frowning, then smiled. "I see dead people," she answered, appearing to be amused by a private joke.  
"I... I guess I have nothing to lose," I admitted, nodding.  
"Well, if I am not successful, you will lose your spirit, and cease to exist. Now stand still."  
Before I could respond, a brilliant light, brighter than the Sun itself, filled me, reversing the effects of the consuming darkness that took my life away from me. I felt my mind come alive and my heart begin pumping the precious life force into my body. I felt all of my senses rush back to me, all at once. I was overwhelmed, but overjoyed. In mere seconds, I was alive!  
Weak but happy, I turned to thank the wonderful healer that had restored my life, but she was nowhere to be found. I had asked around for her, but no one had ever seen a woman matching the description of the girl I had seen. Was she... a spirit herself? I would spend the rest of my long, healthy life as a fisherman not knowing, but more importantly, not caring about adventuring any longer. I would now only look across the waters for answers to the mystery of life and existence, but finding only the wind from the seas, and more fish.  
  
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End file.
